


Out of Time

by ReaOfSunshine



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Plague, Terminal Illnesses, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 18:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17730755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaOfSunshine/pseuds/ReaOfSunshine
Summary: A bit of an angsty one-shot of my MC before she went to the Lazaret, because I recently got back into the Arcana and had a severe case of the Feels™. (This is technically a prologue for Julian's route, thus the "Apprentice/Julian" tag.) Enjoy!





	Out of Time

**Author's Note:**

> It's my headcanon that the MC started calling Julian Doctor Jules first, but Lucio turned it into a way to mock him after the MC's death. Thus, why my MC addresses Julian as such!

She was running out of time.

Underneath a cup and its matching saucer, the letter addressed with  _Doctor Jules_  in her scrolling script felt like the weight of the world in her palm. Encased within was a simple, one-paged message, but it held the words she never said nor will ever say--her final goodbye.

She had always been good at keeping secrets, but it was getting harder and harder to hide the plague’s symptoms, both from Julian  _and_  from Asra. It was not until the whites of her eyes began to stain crimson that she knew that it was a secret she could no longer keep. She would only be a danger to those around her.

However, she was a coward--terrified to see them weep for her misfortune and also frightened of the prospect of her death. She was not sure which was worse; to see the men she looked up to in pain because of her or to simply never see them again.

In the end, she made her choice.

With nervousness coiling in her body like a spring, she knocked on the door to Julian’s office. There was silence for a few beats until she heard his tired voice call out, “Come in!” With her free hand, she adjusted the doctor’s mask on her face and then nudged open the door.

“Oh, Rhea!” Seated at his desk and surrounded by the organized chaos of his research, he glanced up at her. His angled features were drawn and exhausted, but he managed to grin one of his signature smiles when he took note of the steaming cup of black coffee in her hand--his favorite. “You come bearing a gift, even! You are too good to me, darling.”

He eagerly gripped the saucer with long fingers, distracted by the need for caffeine. It was easy to slip her letter onto his paper-littered desk without him taking notice--the best sleight of hand in her life.

Careful of her tone and aware of the thick scent of dried herbs wafting from the mask’s beak, she dipped her head and spoke, “Make sure to get some sleep soon, okay? Don’t overwork yourself.” Ink stains on his once white shirt caught her eye and made her wince. “And don’t forget to wash that shirt, otherwise those will never come out.”

He barely spared a look as he went right back to work, having already drained his cup. “Yes, yes, my dear. I will.” A fountain pen’s tip began to scratch mercilessly at the paper before him, his grey eyes focused and clear after a surge of caffeine hit him. “Would you do me the favor of lighting my candle before you go?”

Her chest was so tight that it was difficult to breathe, but she pushed through and flicked her fingers at the wick of the said candle. It lit with little resistance and bathed the doctor in a soft glow, highlighting the auburn of his curls.

“Much better,” he murmured and shot her another winning smile. “Thank you.”

Although he could not see it, a single tear rolled down her cheek, her resolve steadily dissolving. It hit her then that she did not want to die. She wanted to live and help see the cure through. She wanted to live and learn more about medicine and magic. She wanted to live and experience so much more. She wanted to  _stay_.

But that was not what happened.

Instead, she turned on her heel and began to leave. “Of course,” she answered over her shoulder. “Have a good evening.” She did not trust her voice to say more, for it was hard enough to keep it steady.

Her heart constricted at his next words and they nearly did her in then: “You as well. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rhea.” A sob choked her as the door clicked shut behind her, but with what little willpower she had left, she pushed it back down.

Leaving the palace grounds was a blur. She kept her mask in place as not to give away the sign of her illness and ghosted through the bustling halls. It was not strange to see an individual with a plague doctor’s mask, so no one gave her a glance.

It was as if she were a specter.

She reached the gates and bowed her head to the guards as she crossed the threshold. Then with trembling hands, she pulled her cloak tighter around her form--which had gone from lean to near skeletal with sickness--and took to the streets of Vesuvia.

Again, it was not uncommon to see someone with a doctor’s mask, but unlike the palace, she could feel the stares of the people upon her back. Not necessarily accusing, but  _desperate_ \--desperate for some form of relief from the plague. Hundreds of questions and pleas itched at the tips of their tongues, but she moved too swiftly for them to speak them.

She did not stop until she reached the pier.

Night had fallen by then, and in the darkness was where she shed her disguise. The mask dropped from her shaking hands and she blinked rapidly to gather her bearings--her once vivid green eyes marred by the sight of the blood red sclera surrounding them.

_Is it time?_

The prickly voice whispered through her mind moments before she heard the tell-tale meowing behind her. She gazed down in time to see the two lanky forms of her familiars as they twirled around her legs, purring in time with each other. Two pairs of yellow-green eyes blinked up at her, awaiting her orders.

Their black fur was silky to the touch as she leaned down to pet them both, tears forming in the corners of her diseased eyes. Willie and Nelson had been with her for so long and it was heart-wrenching to leave them behind, but she knew Asra would care for them as if they had been his own. That was why when she dug out the remaining letter from her bag--the name  _Asra_  written on the front--she handed it to Willie for him to take.

“I love you, boys,” she gasped, unable to hold back her sob. She kissed their heads in turn and stood, urging them to carry out her last wish.

Willie was the first to leave--always business compared to his brother--but she could sense his underlying distress. The letter dangled from his toothy grip, but he moved about with ease and disappeared into the shadows. It was Nelson who lingered, curling around his master’s leg once more before he mewled a cry, the sound anguished. He did not need to speak for her to understand his pain.

“Take care of your brother for me, okay? Asra and Doctor Jules too.” Her voice was slick with tears, but she was firm. “Go.”

He hesitated, but eventually darted away and--like his brother--melted into the shadows.

With a deep breath, she gathered herself and wiped away her tears. Exhaling through her nose, she stepped forward and made her way towards the pier, as if she were about to walk the proverbial plank.

The boat hardly dipped under her weight as she stepped aboard and the doctor manning the vessel hardly spared her a look. It was obvious where she was going, but still she said in a shockingly clear voice, “The Lazaret, please.”

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note!
> 
> My MC is a self-insert, thus why her name is similar to mine (which is Rea). Also, her familiars are based on my own real life cats (I adopted them from a shelter which is why they have such strange names), but sadly Willie passed away recently. I decided to “immortalize” him in a way by including him as a character, alongside his brother. ♥
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading! I hope I did Julian some justice. ;3;


End file.
